


Sober Revelations

by Squilkey



Series: University in the City [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squilkey/pseuds/Squilkey
Summary: Stiles wakes up in Derek's bed with very little memory. Of course he didn't do anything, but he was definitely an embarrassing mess.





	Sober Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> AKA The one where Derek enjoys the morning way too much
> 
> This is an excerpt from a larger fic (not posted yet) which is heavily packfeels and Stiles at college. This is part two of the excerpts posted about the beginning of Stiles' relationship with Derek in the fic, and so read Drunken Confessions to understand a little (and i say little) bit more :)

Stiles wakes up unsure of his surroundings. He’s in a bed, but it’s definitely not his bed. A big, soft bed, like a cloud. 

He stretches out, waiting for a headache that never comes. A pleasant surprise, but he was just drinking beer (and maybe a shot or two of tequila). He always gets headaches from that ten dollar wine Lydia insists is ‘just as good as an expensive bottle’. But beer? No sir. Sir. A suit. Derek Hale in a suit. A cloud. Derek Hale _carrying_ him. Derek Hale’s bed. Oh my god. He throws his head back on the pillow, searching his head for any remnants of the night. 

He remembers blips after flip cup: Standing on the rooftop, being with Derek, Derek _touching_ him, but almost none of what he said…Something about a disguise? That wasn’t too bad… _Oh god,_ there may have been some compliment directly related to Derek Hale. And where was he anyway? Waiting for Stiles to get up so he can kick him out, probably. 

_So I’ll never get up_ , Stiles thought. _No, no. Not a good plan_. 

So he musters up all his courage and parts with the greatest bed he has ever slept in. The apartment isn’t large and as he exits Derek’s bedroom he enters the kitchen/living room, where Derek is standing in a dark blue sweater. _What a nice sweater._

He’s rummaging through the fridge, so his back is to Stiles, but Stiles is starting to think that view is just as nice. There’s no pressure to impress. When Derek closes the fridge, he catches a glimpse of Stiles and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. 

Stiles frowns, “What’s funny?” He notices Derek eyeing him up and down and follows his lead. 

Oh. 

So he’s still in the toga. Well at least Derek didn’t undress him. _Wait, is that a good thing?_ _Yes, I was drunk_ , he reminded himself. 

“Guess I’m walking home like this,” Stiles awkwardly chuckled, making his way for the door. Derek grabbed him by the arm as he passed by. His heart flips. 

“Dude, you had a rough night. Don’t you want to eat something first?” Derek held out a punnet of strawberries. Stiles almost drooled, _real fruit_. 

“Yeah, I guess I can stay for a minute or two,” he murmurs, stuffing a berry into his mouth.

“Can I lend you some clothes?” Derek asks, causing Stiles to stumble in his chewing. “So you don’t have to walk home at one in the afternoon in a toga,” he supplied. Yes, wearing clothes of Derek’s would be a dream come true, but it seemed somehow off. Yes, he had imagined staying the night at Derek’s and putting on one of his t-shirts in the morning, and yes that had been what happened. But it wasn’t as it was in his head, _it wasn’t perfect_. He was a mess, he was awkward and probably a nuisance. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit any of that. 

“No thanks, I’m not really into suits,” Stiles retorts, biting into his third strawberry. 

“Yeah, we covered this last night,” Derek says, voice still surprisingly soft. “After you wouldn’t shut up about my sweater,” He adds. 

Stiles blushed. “Uh, well, it compliments your eyes,” he mumbled, thankful for the berry occupying most of his mouth. 

“My eyes are green, Stiles.” Okay, he really needs to get over the fact that Derek will be saying his name…But that probably won’t be today. 

“Dark blue and green! Just as nice as grey and green! They just work, you know? I mean I know they say never mix blue and green but with eyes it’s a good combination, the blue makes green pop.” 

Derek smiled, “My eyes pop, do they?” He imitated the hard p Stiles made on the word ‘pop’. Yeah, his face was definitely bright red by now. Derek took the punnet from Stiles’ hands. “Seriously,” his voice, it made Stiles pine, “Let me lend you something. Pants, at least?” Stiles gulped, Derek was close enough he could feel his breath. He’s not quite sure how drunk Stiles could have handled this well.

“What did I say last night?” He blurted out. “Sorry. I just, I remember a lot of thoughts, some actions, but not a lot of words.” 

Derek smiled, this man sure did smile a lot recently. “There were a lot of words,” he admits. “Mostly just complimenting me though,” Stiles drops his head in his hands. “Hey,” Derek’s voice is firmer. “Don’t worry, it was a nice ego boost.”  

“I doubt a guy like you needs an ego boost,” come Stiles’ muffled words. 

“Hey! You can compliment while sober too.” Stiles looks up from his hands. Derek’s just grinning. God, Stiles really wasn’t fairing well. Derek didn’t seem frustrated, or embarrassed, or really anything other than amused, really. But amusement could go two very different ways…

“Come pick out something to wear home,” Derek breaks Stiles’ thoughts and he blindly follows Derek back into the bedroom. So after that terribly awkward interaction, he’s now going to go through Derek’s wardrobe. Stiles sits down on the bed as Derek rummages through his drawers. 

“No offence, but I’m not sure we’re the same size,” Stiles comments, straining to size a pair of pants in Derek’s hands. Derek grunts and turns back into the drawer, throwing a pair of shorts at him a few seconds later. 

“I’m sure you’ll fit into my athletic shorts.”

“I knew you only had athletic wear and suits, I bet that’s your only sweater!” Stiles smiles upon seeing Derek’s eyes roll. Derek dropped a T-shirt in Stiles’ lap and then walked back into the kitchen. 

Stiles took that as his queue to quickly change. He eyed himself in Derek’s mirror and winced. What may have been a well-fitted black shirt on Derek was an awkwardly-fitted mess on Stiles, and then red and yellow shorts really didn’t help pull it together. He almost preferred the toga. But he was in Derek Hale’s clothes, so he pushed past it. He walked back out of the room, motioning down his body to Derek, who was slouched over the couch. He smirked. 

“You should really think about quitting business school and getting into fashion,” Stiles mocked. 

Derek pulled himself off the couch, approaching Stiles. “You can always wear the toga.” 

“Thank you,” Stiles said. “Seriously though, for putting up with my mess and letting me crash and all that.” 

Derek shrugged, “I look out for my teammates.” Right. Teammate. That’s what Stiles was. 

He pushed his thumb back toward the door. “I’m gonna take off, lot of work to get done.” Derek nodded, walking in front of Stiles and opening the door. Stiles stepped into the hallway.  

“Hey,” came Derek’s voice. Stiles whipped around, maybe too eagerly. “What would you say to,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to a date. With me?” Stiles tried to keep his heart beating. He managed a vigorous nod and a few stumbled words. “I’ll text you,” Derek continued. “You’re a very interesting guy, Stiles Stilinski.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short conclusion to the previous ficlet :)


End file.
